


Only then am I human (only then am I clean)

by kylermalloy



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Sibling Incest, there isn’t any angst!, what are these boys doing to me I can’t bear to make them suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylermalloy/pseuds/kylermalloy
Summary: “I’m fifteen years old and I’ve…never been kissed before. I want to know what it feels like.”Post Promised Day, Alphonse wants to make up for lost time in his human body. He’s dreamed of this sensation—now it’s time for him to really experience it.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric/Edward Elric
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	Only then am I human (only then am I clean)

_ “What is it, Al? What do you want to ask me?” _

Al ducks his head, letting his long hair fall into his face and shield his eyes. He’s sure his cheeks are burning red—or they would be, if he weren’t so pale to begin with.

It’s been a long, slow recovery for him. Weeks upon weeks in the hospital under constant care, where he slowly gained the ability to eat and speak and walk again.

He’s finally been discharged, deemed healthy enough to survive on his own. They’ve been put up in a hotel long enough for Ed to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare of leaving the army while it’s in complete disarray. (He would have already dealt with it during Al’s long hospital stay, but he flat-out refused to leave Al’s side. Even now, he insists on bringing Al with him whenever he has to go out.)

In between visits to Central Headquarters—the undemolished parts of it—they dedicate every moment to their new-old bodies.

Ed rejoices in his renewed sense of feeling, the lightness of his right hand.

Al’s restoration has been bumpier. There’s a lot he’s forgotten about being human, a lot his body has forgotten about housing a soul.

Sleep, for instance. His stubborn body refuses to relax unless Ed’s arms are around him. Holding him. Grounding him. Soothing him back from the cavern of nightmares.

Ed displays saintlike patience, allowing Al to be as clingy as he needs. (Ed has never let anyone else run their fingers through his hair, or rest their cheek on his shoulder. Al regards this with a degree of smugness.)

Al revels in all the sensations. Everything is too bright, too loud, too harsh, too firm, too tight. He’s constantly skating on the razor’s edge of pain. He loves it.

He’s determined to live every human experience, cramming in five years of life at once—every mundane occurrence. Lying in the grass. Rolling down a hill. Burning his tongue on spicy food. Sliding down a banister. Riding on Ed’s back.

Ed, ever attentive, indulges his every whim. Though he teases Al about the absurdity of some of his requests— _ what d’you  _ mean _ you wanna stand in the rain fully clothed? It doesn't feel good. _

_ That's the point, brother. It  _ feels.

Al doesn’t know what he would do without Ed, who finds almost as much joy in Al’s experiences as Al himself.

He's been avoiding this particular request, though. Saving it. Working up to it—though he still has no idea how Ed will respond.

He might think it's too weird. Maybe he’ll push Al away. Maybe he’ll do it, but look at Al funny forever after.

They're getting ready for bed when Al decides to bite the bullet and ask. They sit cross legged on their shared bed, facing each other. Al buries his hands between his ankles and hides his face in his hair.

His words are quiet and halting, each one flushed with shy embarrassment. But he knows Ed has heard.

There's silence for a moment. Al can't fathom even a guess as to what his brother is thinking.

Then hands, soft revered flesh, are on him. Trailing on his shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Fingers part the golden curtain of his hair, baring his face to Ed’s open, gentle gaze—that he cannot meet. 

Ed tucks Al’s hair behind his ears and lets his thumbs skate across Al’s sunken cheeks.

His lips disappear into his mouth as he wets them, then asks. “Are you sure?”

Al’s chest throbs. It’s not a  _ no _ . His heart is jumping, stretching out of its cavity, reaching for Ed.

“I’m fifteen years old and I’ve…never been kissed before. I want to be kissed. I want to know what it feels like.”

“I get it. But…” Ed runs the pad of his new thumb over Al’s lips. Al’s breath stutters.

“Don’t you…I mean, your first kiss. Don’t you want it to be…someone else? Someone special to you? You could have anyone, you know. Anyone you want.”

“That’s just it.” Al chances a glance up at Ed, but keeps his head bowed. “I don’t want it to be just  _ anyone _ . I’m not asking you because you’re the only one here. I  _ want _ it to be you, brother. You’re special to me.” He manages to look halfway up, focusing on the bridge of Ed’s nose.

Ed’s eyes shimmer. He studies Al’s face, every gaunt inch of it. There’s something deeply— _ reverent _ in his expression.

Al drinks in his worshipful gaze, waiting, waiting, for a response.

And finally, Ed has one. “Okay.” Casual. Calm.

His hands are gentle as he repositions them to cup Al’s face, palms curving just under his jaw.

This close, Ed’s scent is dizzying. It’s warm and musky, like a mix of autumnal spices. Al is transfixed, his body locked in place, unable to believe his brother is about to grant his aching wish.

Ed leans closer, ever so slowly. Cautious, as if giving Al time to change his mind and back away. Inch by inch, until his breath ghosts against Al’s lips.

Al closes his eyes.

Edward’s lips are warm, soft. A little dry. They brush against Al’s, feather light. Tighten around his lower lip for a brief moment, like a caress.

Al’s heart thrums almost painfully against his prominent ribs as his lips move, soft skin shaping around Ed’s.

It’s a small kiss. Chaste and delicate and more than a little shy.

It’s perfect.

His stomach squeezes inside him, all nerves and excitement and hunger. It reminds him of his reaction to fresh baked apple custard, when they’d passed a bakery leaving the hospital—but it’s also…more, somehow.

The kiss awakens him. Leaves him…curious.

He wishes time would freeze right here, that this shard of the world would break off and crystallize forever, trapping them here.

A soft noise of pleasure escapes Al’s throat as they break apart. His lips have come alive in a way he’s never felt before. They pulse with feeling, with  _ wanting _ .

He couldn’t have imagined such...bliss.

Eyes still closed, he listens intently for brother’s reaction.

Ed breathes deep. Once, twice, like he’s been holding his breath. He hasn’t drawn away—his face is still close enough to stop Al’s heart. His hands warm Al’s cheeks. 

“Was that okay?” he breathes.

Unable to trust his voice, Al nods. The small vigorous movement looks too frantic, he knows. He clears his throat. “Yes,” he whispers through tingling lips. “Yes. That was…wonderful.”

Ed laughs quietly. Al dares to open his eyes, peeking shyly up at his brother.

Everything is sharper somehow, the colors brighter and more intense. Al drinks in his new reality.

Ed’s face is quite flushed. Pink splashes on his cheeks—he’s blushing enough for both of them. But his eyes, the eyes they share, spark with that tender fondness reserved only for Al. A hint of a smile dances on his lips, those treasured lips.

Al runs his tongue over his lips, tasting the imprint of Ed lingering there. “Mmm.”

“I taste good, don’t I?” Though Ed’s voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, there is no mistaking the teasing affection threading his words.

Al chortles, relieved. “Yeah.”

This has not shattered them, or torn a hole in what they are. Ed is still Ed, and Al is still his little brother, the most important person in the world to him.

“You do, too.”

Al ducks his head, unable to stop the shy smile blooming.

In the weeks since he’s been restored, his involuntary reactions have slowly returned. His face now reflects his emotions without any active focus. (He’s unspeakably glad—he’s frightened himself and Ed with his inscrutable expression of stone.)

“Hey, Al.”

“Hmm?”

Two matching hands incline his head upward. Ed is strawberry-red. “D’you mind if…” His tongue peeks out, wets his pale pink slip of a mouth. There is a vulnerability in his liquid eyes that he rarely shows to anyone.

“Can I…kiss you again?”

Al’s breath catches.  _ Again.  _ His stomach twists around and around itself, like a washcloth being wrung out. Anticipation and nerves and thrill.

“Mm-hmm.” He nods again, jittery and twitchy in his excitement. “I’d like that. Please,” he adds, and the tender, astonished smile he receives in return is sweeter than honey, sweeter than any pastry he could ever taste.

Ed leans in again. His approach is still slow, but this time he seems to be basking in the anticipation instead of hesitating. Al’s stomach quivers, knowing the sensation that is to come.

Their lips meet once more. They share a sigh of pleasure, breath lingering in each others’ mouths.

This kiss is less tentative. Ed’s hands still cradle his face gently, but his touch is more assured now. He no longer holds his breath as he takes Al’s lips in his. He breathes deep, spreading warmth all over Al’s mouth.

Al feels Ed’s lips open against his, warm and a little…wet.

Al gasps, feeling a stirring in his belly. Heat reaches through him, tickling at him like the little hands that once pulled his body apart. The sensation spreads up into his chest—and down, into his navel.

He parts his own lips and tilts his head to one side, letting his lips dip ever so slightly inside Ed’s.

Ed’s hands tighten on Al when he feels this, a soft moan choking up his throat and reverberating through them both.

Al’s breath stutters. He hasn’t felt anything like this since he got his body back—and certainly not before, either.

His tongue dares to dart forward, brushing against Ed’s lips for just a taste.

The contact is electrifying.

His hands, which have hovered uncertain in his lap, reach forward without his permission. They find Ed’s torso, brushing against bare skin before snaking up his clothed chest and around his hardened shoulders.

Edward angles his mouth in response to Al’s venture, deepening the kiss even more. His lips move slow and sweet, holding Al’s lips like he holds Al at night.

He gently parts them to sweep his tongue into Al’s moistened, reddened mouth. He explores, snaking along the edges of Al’s teeth and beyond.

Al breathes in erratic gasps. A slow fire is kindling in him, spreading through his still-frail body. A burning hunger only Ed can satisfy.

“Brother.” The word is half formed, spoken against Ed’s lips in a soft near-whimper. But Ed understands. It’s the only word that matters.

Ed’s hands pull him closer, impossibly, closer, and Al is rising to his knees, leaning into Ed—

And then Al’s world tilts on its axis, and he’s falling. Adrenaline floods him—but he needs not worry. Brother’s arms encircle him, his body creating a cushion for Al as they tumble backward in a tangle of arms and legs, flesh and metal.

An  _ oomph _ escapes him as he lands on top of Ed, their lips breaking apart so they can laugh together.

Ed stares up at Al. His loose hair forms a golden halo around his head. In Al’s joyful haze, he seems to glow. Though his lips turn up in a smirk and his eyebrows are cocked merrily, his eyes take Al in with unabashed awe.

Al again feels self-conscious under the intensity of his brother’s gaze. “What?”

_ “Tch.” _ Ed pushes Al’s long hair back behind his ears, from where it has fallen in the flurry of movement.“ Just looking at you.” He sounds remarkably offhand for the level of adoration on his face. 

“I don’t look so good,” Al teases, though a pang shoots through him as he says it. He’s still skeletally thin, with what the doctors said were unhealthy, brittle bones underneath. Sometimes he thinks he’d rather see the hulking suit of armor in the mirror than his corpse’s face.

Ed’s hands tense around him. He blinks once, mouth falling open before he can speak again. “Yes, you do. You know that, right? You look perfect.”

Al smiles halfheartedly. Of course he would say that. He’s the one who bargained with the universe itself to bring him back—his alchemy paid for this body. “Yeah.”

“I mean it, Al.” Ed’s hands lock in his hair. “You’re beautiful.”

But Ed is the beautiful one, all sharp lines and edges. A smile that can be both predatory and irresistibly alluring. Muscles toned, his skin lightly tanned and freckled. Soft hair that he lovingly combs and braids every day, more precious than any gold. Eyes that rake over every fragile inch of Al, trailing sunshine kisses everywhere they touch him.

It will be a long time, if ever, before Al matches Ed in beauty.

But his tone is so sincere, his gaze so full of veneration, that for once Al can’t find it within him to argue.

“Thanks, brother.”

_ Thank you for saving me. Thank you for bringing me back. Thank you for what you sacrificed. _

_ Thank you for loving me. _

“C’mere.” Ed guides Al’s head down for another kiss. This one is slow and deep and soulful. As he ravishes Al’s lips, his arms loop around Al’s back, holding him in a tender embrace.

Tremors burst from Al’s stomach like waves on a beach. He melts into Ed, wanting to slip beneath his skin so they are one.

Al has died, already. What he’s seen doesn’t make for a promising heaven. Stale nothingness, the taunting presence of a being who claims to be God, and Truth, and him, and the world.

Why anyone would pray to go there is beyond him.

_ This _ is the paradise he wants. The one he fought for. The one he will never, never leave.

This is what makes him feel alive.

The Elrics have never had much time for religion, for faith or worship. Maybe because, Al muses, their religion is closer to home.

No gods. Just each other.

This is their worship, the dance of hands wanting, grasping, caressing. Their prayers the murmured, feverish promises to each other in between kisses. Their sacred texts the blemishes and scars on their skin, traced and memorized and revered with precision, honored dedication.

Their miracles the restored bodies they share with each other, every moment a holy day.

“Al.” Ed memorizes the lines of Al’s body with his lips. “Al, Al, Al.”

The taste of his eager moans is more exquisite than the most sacred of communions.

_ He gave me life.  _ Al smiles at the thought.  _ I’ll gladly give the rest of my life to him. _

* * *

They lay tangled in the bed, sleep abandoned for the quiet, sacrosanct moments with each other.

“So,” Ed murmurs, breath brushing Al’s shoulder. “Not bad for your first kiss?”

Al laughs. “No, not bad at all. You’re good at kissing, brother.”

“I’m good at everything.”

“So.” Al mimics his brother’s tone. “What was  _ your _ first kiss like?”

Ed shifts onto his back. “It—it was…okay. Nice. I liked this better, though.”

Something in Ed’s tone has Al suspicious. He pushes himself up on one elbow, narrowing his eyes. “Was this…your first kiss, too?”

Ed splutters, his face flushing deliciously. “What...of...of course not!”

“Brother.” 

“No! I’m the oldest and I’m way more experienced than you!”

“Just when exactly were you having all these kisses, brother? How come I never saw a single one of them?”

“Shut up!”

Al is laughing. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of laughter—he’d forgotten. The flood of mirth bubbling up your throat, spilling over in giggles, peals. The tears of laughter forming in his eyes.

He’s spent years expressing amusement with polite laughter—the kind you create in casual conversation with your voice and nothing more. None of these instinctual physical reactions he’s now helpless to stop.

His giggles border on hysteria. It’s not the first time he’s felt like an infant since getting his body back.

He rests his head on Ed’s shoulder. “Oh… Brother, I haven’t laughed like that in  _ years _ .”

A dull thud on his temple echoes through his skull as Ed flicks him lightly with one finger. “You’re lucky I still have to be careful with you. Now that you’re not armor, I can kick your—”

_ “Brother!” _

Quiet is cast aside for pokes and nudges, a race to find and attack the most sensitive parts of each other. (Al doesn’t remember being quite so ticklish.)

Laughter rings above their bed like church bells.

Al’s glad he asked.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


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